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2011-08-08 - The Will of Charles Xavier
The event has not been widely advertised. Only those actually named in the will have been invited, and the number is yet smaller, since many of Charles Xavier's former students are not reachable. By the time it comes to it, only five guests arrive. Awaiting them are the appointed lawyer, one J. Noble Daggett, and the government's representative, one Amanda Waller. The former is a small man, balding and bespectacled, wearing a painfully out of fashion tweed suit. The latter is a heavyset woman with a hard expression that is not softened by her tasteful make-up and impeccable lavender suit. The room is small, wood-paneled, with dark blue carpet and a high ceiling. A long oak conference table takes up the center of the room, surrounded by heavy, high-backed chairs. A place has been marked for each person, with Daggett and Waller seated at the head and on the near right, respectively. Emma Frost arrives at the appointed time, curiosity more than anything haven driven her to make the journey. The woman glances curiously at those assembled as she strides into the room. She's clad in something somber, at least by her standards, for the event. A white pencil skirt with matching jacket and blouse. A small clutch purse is held in gloved hands as she looks over the other attendants, waiting until others begin to make their way to the assigned seats before joining them. At least Emma will see one familiar face there. Jean Grey arrives, her expression somber, her eyes downcast, but wearing an outfit that Emma's seen before... on most people, it would be a great suit for an interview, but it's her work attire, just without the name badge. A touch of surprise crosses her features upon the sight of the blonde, but she covers it well after that first few seconds of shock. With a brief nod to Emma, she takes her own assigned place silently. Entering after the other three women is a fourth, a lady with hard eyes, tired eyes, and slightly reddened eyes. Dr. Moira MacTaggart looks very much like a scientist who's been interrupted in the middle of something and here very much against her will, but knowing her duty. She's even got her lab coat on, as if at least ensuring her attire was clean and somewhat presentable rather than upper-crust fashionable, was all that she had time to bother with before jetting over to the States. Her lip curls upon sight of the lawyer for some reason. Erik Lehnsherr walks into the room. He is wearing a charcoal gray suit today, and every line appears to be in place. A smokey red tie stands out against the crisp white shirt beneath the jacket. His gray eyes survey the room. He gives a nod of recognition to those he knows and a look of curiosity to those he does not. He remains silent as he moves to take his seat at the table. He reaches down to just unbutton the jacket as he sits. He laces his fingers together and rests them gently in front of him at the table. The last one in is a large man who would look more at home on the practice field of the New York Giants. He is probably about six two or six three with broad shoulders and chest. His hair is red, but cut short much like a soldier might have it. His narrow blue eyes look about with unveiled contempt and perhaps a little hostility. His neck his thick and his face looks rather smashed in. He is dressed in a suit that is obviously off the rack and not that well fit for a man of his size. It is a dark blue in color. He takes his seat at the table and grunts. His sausage like fingers tap slightly on the table as he looks to the head of it. "Well, lets get this over with." Once everyone has settled, Daggett leans forward and straightens the papers in front of him. He gently clears his throat, gives a tight and awkward smile, and says, "Before we begin, I should explain that Mr. Xavier's will was held up in a litigation following his untimely passing. However, all those matters have since been sorted out, so I am now free to act as executor of his estate. Each of you who is present here is named in the will itself as a beneficiary, save for Ms. Waller, here, who has come to give a statement on behalf of the United States' government." At this, Daggett turns to Amanda Waller. "Would you care to speak now, Ms. Waller?" Amanda Waller gives Daggett a curt nod, then she turns to the rest of those in the room and stands. "I have been tasked by the offices of the Department of Extranormal Operations, in coordination with the White House and the United States' Congress, with presenting the nation's condolences for the loss of Professor Charles Xavier." She pauses a moment for effect, then continues, "The rogue group responsible for the killing of Professor Xavier and his students has been censured, and while national security prohibits me from specifically discussing those involved, I can assure you that they have all been dealt with quite harshly, and -- to be perfectly candid, speaking on a personal note -- none of the bastards will ever again see the light of day." Here again Amanda pauses, frowning, and then she says, "Regardless, pursuant to the stipulations of the professor's will, the government has released the grounds at Greymalkin Lane from quarantine. Those who inherit said property may now use them however they might see fit, at least within the boundaries outlined in the will." This said, Waller nods, then she sits back down. Emma offers up a small smile to Miss Grey, nodding politely to the other woman as the rest of the beneficiaries assemble. There's a small pause as Mr. Daggett and Ms. Waller speak from Emma. A small nod towards the others before she slips into her seat, purse held in her lap as she looks distinctly uncomfortable with the situation. Her lips remain thin as she considers the heavy set woman that just spoke, but her thoughts are kept private as she simply watches the proceedings. Jean Grey blinks in deep surprise at the government's representative's words. She wasn't expecting... that. In fact, the pokerface she'd held upon realizing just who Waller was is clearly gone. And the condolences... they hit her very very hard, and she swallows once. But she'll be damned if she sheds a tear. Although she does meet Emma's glance and nods in return. For a long moment, her eyes shift over to Erik, and once more she has to compose herself in the face of her other teacher, the one who knew Xavier better than she did, but did not part the other's company well. And Cain? Jean can't help but glance at him briefly, swallowing once in the face of his obvious behavior, finally wrenching her eyes back to the lawyer, once more appearing calm, but only just barely. Moira snorts openly toward Cain, shaking her head, but then when Waller speaks, her eyes narrow. "I suppose ye'll think that's sufficient to the cause," she mutters, deliberately choosing a volume to be heard, if only barely. "Handwave away the fact that a wee gang o' bullies killed a bunch o' students, and it suddenly makes everything better? Not likely." Her Scots brogue can be slightly difficult to parse, but at least she's using English today. If looks alone could kill, Ms. Waller might have a hole through her middle as Erik listens to her little speech. "And we are to take your word for it, Ms. Waller?" His voice has a trace of an Eastern European accent in it along with the tone of cold skepticism. "Forgive me if I believe the US Government's credibility is not what others might in a situation like this." He remains still as he speaks save for his head which turns to face her. To those sensitive to it, they can probably feel anger being kept in a bottle from him, but he works hard to keep his face clean at the moment. His eyes flick towards Jean, and there is the briefest of nods to her. Cain Marko simply snorts and rolls his eyes at Ms. Waller's statement. "Yeah, yeah. We all have such nice things to say about Chuck. He was a little brat growing up," he mutters under his breath. He looks belligerently towards those giving him dirty looks. He waves a meathook of a hand dismissively towards Moira. "Hey, strong survive. Isn't that what you's scientists believe?" Daggett looks mildly surprised at the harsh reactions, but Amanda responds to the others with an impeccable poker face. She looks to each of them in turn as they offer various retorts to her statement, then she gives a mild shrug and settles back into her chair. "To be utterly frank, Mr. Lehnsherr, Ms. MacTaggart, I'm not here to answer for those crimes. I'm here to inform you that those responsible HAVE answered. I don't mind telling you that I think what was done was beastly and inhuman, and if I had the chance, I'd happily put a bullet in whomever gave the order. I don't have that option. Neither do you. What you have is an end to the Mutant Registration Act, something that I'll lay odds has benefited more than one person in this room. The rest, we'll have to leave it to history." She looks down at the tabletop, then, falling silent. J. Noble Daggett clears his throat softly, looking unsettled, and says, "Now, er, that we've had our say... may I please continue? This is, after all, supposed to be a reading of Mr. Xavier's will." There's a small look of annoyed discomfit at the outbursts from most of the others present from Emma. The blonde sighs softly and looks over at Jean before smiling weakly. She honestly has no emotional stake in this conversation, though that's likely due to her highly selfish nature, but at least she can ape a semblance of self-respect for a short period of time. She even offers an invisible telepathic nudge towards Jean, sort of the psychic equivalent of a squeeze of the shoulder, a sign of solidarity as she tries to remain dignified. Jean Grey swallows once, first at the harsh words traded, then as Waller chooses to explain what she would have done, and she shakes her head. "Respectfully, that lesson is not something that was taught in his school... revenge," she says the word distastefully. When the lawyer calls for attention, she nods to him, but her gaze is mostly on the table itself, her green eyes full of sorrow that no one can help her with right now. But she still flashes Emma a weak smile and a responding telepathic thanks. << I really hate this, >> she remarks privately to the other telepath. Moira's about to get her dander up, pointing a finger at Cain, but then Amanda Waller's speech leaves her shocked and startled. "That's nae helpful either. Killin' people who did the wrong thing doesn't make a bloody bit o' difference, and ye know it. What yuir government needs to do, lass, is give yuir people the truth. Nae one believes yuir cover story, and ye've got people wantin' tae start fires near that ghetto ye started, what's it called? Mutant Town. That's how the Nazis started off too, y'know. And don't a damned one o' ye say one bleedin' word about Godwin's Law." Erik Lehnsherr just smolders in his seat but remains quiet. His fingers remain laced together with just a slight whitening of the tips of his fingers as he clenches. After a moment he looks towards Mr. Daggett and nods. "Forgive my outburst, sir. Please continue." Cain just settles back in his seat. He looks like a big brother sitting in as his little sister throws a tea party, and he looks just as uncomfortable. He is fidgeting with the collar of his shirt and constantly shifting in his seat as he looks at the lawyer. He gives Moira another dirty look as she points at him, but keeps quiet as she does not speak to him. The lawyer gives a polite nod, adjusting his spectacles, and pulls a paper from the briefcase at his side. For her part, Amanda Waller now remains silent, gazing down at the tabletop. Daggett begins to read aloud in what proves to be quite a droning monotone: "I, Charles Xavier, residing at 1407 Greymalkin Lane, North Salem, New York, declare this to be my Will, and I revoke any and all wills and codicils I previously made." Daggett pauses, glances around the room, and then continues. "ARTICLE I: Funeral expenses & payment of debt: I direct my executors to pay my enforceable unsecured debts and funeral expenses, the expenses of my last illness, and the expenses of administering my estate." Daggett pauses again, glancing around, and then continues, since he imagines everyone present is more interested in what follows. "ARTICLE II: Money & Personal Property: With exception to specific items and amounts outlined below, I give all my tangible personal wealth and effects to and all policies and proceeds of insurance covering such property, to my friend and student, Jean Grey. If she does not survive me, I give that property to those of my wards and students who survive me, in equal shares, to be divided among them by my executors in their absolute discretion. My executors may pay out of my estate the expenses of delivering tangible personal property to beneficiaries." '' Content adapted from http://estate.findlaw.com/estate-planning/estate-planning-forms/wills-sample.html <> Emma idly wonders if it's wrong to have a telepathic conversation during a will reading. She never was one for good taste though. She simply waits now, satisfied that the rabble have calmed enough so that she can endure this in peace. Jean Grey surely wasn't expecting that, especially with both Erik and Cain in the room, despite any past history between Xavier and the two men. When Emma touches her mind again, she clears her throat. << Oh my God... I... I didn't think he'd do that. >> It takes the same great will she used in holding up an entire building so civilians could escape safely to be able to hold her composure right now. Moira, on the other hand, doesn't seem to be startled in the slightest. She may indeed have been aware of Charles' plans, and so she nods with satisfaction on her features, but she's still waiting for the other shoe to drop, her fingers drumming on the arm of the chair. "Here it comes..." she mutters to herself, this time not making a snide comment meant to be overheard. To his credit, Erik keeps a poker face on as the will reading begins. He does not move except for a slight flaring of the nostrils as he breaths. The older man finally gives a slight nod to Mr. Daggett as the reading continues. Cain sits straight up in his chair. "That is horse..." He actually manages to control himself as he looks around at the women at the table, but still does slam his fist against the wood. "I'm his half brother. That estate should've stayed in the family! I knew Charlie was a weasel, but this takes the cake! I have half a mind to go find my own lawyer and fight this one." He glares around the table at each of them. "I do know a lawyer, you know." Daggett passes a sheaf of legal papers bound in a thin leather case over to Jean Grey, glancing up to give Cain a mild frown at the outburst, before demurely clearing his throat yet again to continue. "Ahm, yes. Well, naturally I have no opinion as to Mr. Xavier's desires. It is merely my task to carry them out. Now, erm, to continue... "ARTICLE III: Real Estate: I give all my residences, subject to any mortgages or encumbrances thereon, and all policies and proceeds of insurance covering such property, to my close friend, Erik Lehnsherr. Specifically, I leave him the property at 1407 Greymalkin Lane, including the house and all contained in its grounds, though I stipulate that my ancestral home must remain, so long as funds and circumstances allow, functioning as a home and school for gifted youth, as it has these many years. If Erik does not survive me, I give that property to Jean Grey." Here Daggett pauses again, raising a cautionary hand, "Er, but if you'll excuse me, there IS more." Amanda Waller, for her part, folds her arms in front of her, looking almost like a woman praying -- at least, she might if not for the cool, half-lidded gaze she directs over the top of her clasped hands, watching the others at the table as they receive their inheritances. Emma glances over at Mister Lehnsherr, quietly curiously as to whom this person might be. Her glance is only a temporary distraction as she returns to look at the executor again. Jean Grey's green eyes are once more filled with shock as she takes the packet she was given, looking down at it as if it might explode in her hands or something. And then when the school's remains are given to Erik, for a very brief moment, a deep look of dread crosses her face before she can cover it with a nice set look of worry. But not for herself, her gaze going distant. Maybe she's trying to reach someone else telepathically to warn them. Who's to say? "Och, was he daft when he wrote that?" Moira wonders aloud. "He canna be serious, givin' it to him?" she continues, waving her fingers toward Erik like one would flick dirt or grease off their hands. "Charles never told me about this change of plans..." So maybe there was another earlier will, or better yet, a later one. Erik gives Cain a disdainful look and, with just a hair of power, gives Cain's belt buckle a push to force the man back into his seat. He looks back towards Mr. Daggett and raises an eyebrow, however, as the lawyer speaks and then raises a hand to continue. His eyes flick once towards Moira, but merely clenches his jaw for the moment and remains still as he waits for the proverbial "but" that must be coming. Cain glares around and then suddenly sits back down in his chair with a slight look of surprise, but he does not dwell too much on it apparently. "I do know a lawyer," he says under his breath muttering as he tugs at the tie around his large neck. "He better be a good one," he mutters even quieter, obviously still not happy. Now, Daggett passes a second leather-bound sheaf of papers to Erik, presenting him with the requisite property deeds and such. This done, he looks back to the paper in front of him, ignoring the various outbursts. "Ahm. Now, then... "ARTICLE IV: Specific Directions Clause: Apart from those gifts already defined, I wish to specifically detail three further specific beneficiaries. First, to my brother, Cain Marko, I leave the sum of ten thousand dollars, to be paid out of my residuary estate. Second, to Emma Frost, a young woman whom has been identified to my executors, I leave the contents of the case I have left in their care. It is my hope that she will learn well its lesson, one that I failed to teach her, and that she will let it guide her toward being a force for good in the world. Finally, to my good friend Moira MacTaggart, I leave the sum of one million US dollars to further fund her research in hopes of greater benefit to mankind." Daggett pauses again, passing envelopes to both Moira and Cain, before reaching into his briefcase for the last bequest. This proves to be an antique snow globe, which he immediately hands over to Emma. It's ornately wrought iron surrounding the crystal globe, the scene inside showing a Dickensian winter scene with a little village, trees, and snowmen. Amanda Waller remains silent, but her gaze lingers long on Moira, Cain, and Emma for the moment. Emma Frost senses: The snow globe bears a psychically imprinted memory, revealed upon touching the object. It is a vivid and specific recollection of Xavier meeting Emma, her refusal to join him, and the sadness he felt at needing to alter her memory. He also includes the hope he felt, hope that she would become a powerful force for good in the world through the use of her gift. He saw in her a kindred spirit, much as he did in Jean Grey -- one who would understand the benefits and burdens of being telepathic. A silent urging accompanies the memory, a nearly ghostly push to take her gift and use it to help others. Emma accepts the globe and blinks. Her eyes go distant, unfocused as she stares at it for a bit. The antique is placed to the side as Emma slowly removes a glove and clasps the globe in her bare hand. She remains silent for a few seconds before releasing the globe and sliding her glove back on, thin lipped, the globe left on the table where she placed it. Jean Grey looks over at Emma with something slightly shy of amazement, her brows furrowing, but still with worry on her features, distant worry, as if it's nothing to do with the people in this room at the moment. She frowns deeply as she ponders exactly what Xavier meant by his bequests and why Emma and Erik were given instructions and she wasn't. Moira snorts as Xavier grants her a million to help with her research, but she nods. "I'll put it tae good use," is all she says, then plugs her ears against what she expects to be Cain's reaction. Erik accepts the leather folder setting it down in front of him. His fingers move over the soft material for a moment. He glances at Waller with just the slightest bit of vindication as there is an upturn on the corners of his mouth before he controls himself again. His back is a little bit straighter as he settles back in his chair. The rest around the table are given a glance as each is given their own gifts. "What?!?" roars Cain as he stomps back to his feet. Both meaty hands crash down on the table as he looks at Daggett. "He gets the house, she gets a million, and she," he points directly at Jean, "gets everything else except for a flea market nick nak and ten thousand? There is no justice! My dad married his mom. Everything should have come to me! I was his only family. Lord knows the little bald rolly polly never could have gotten anyone to give him a kid. He was a whimp when I was a kid, and he was a whimp now! Got himself blown up and all by that one!" He points now at Waller. He snorts and his narrow blue eyes burn with anger. Daggett rises, taking a step back from the table, and stares at Cain uneasily. "Er, everything else is... just about taxes and... such. I'll leave copies of the will for you each to review if you're curious, but I'm afraid that there's nothing more to add." He closes his briefcase, then turns and heads quickly for the door, the copies of the will left in a stack on the table. Amanda Waller stands up, now, and regards the room coolly. "Mr. Marko, I had nothing to do with your brother's death. I assure you of that. Charles Xavier was a decent man, and we could use more like him." She glances to the others, nodding to them, and says, "Good evening, everyone." This said, she turns to follow Daggett from the room. Emma glances over disdainfully at Cain's outburst. She slowly and with dignity stands. The snow globe is picked up and a single finger slips through a loop in the ornate iron wrought base. As the blonde begins to move towards the exit she tosses the globe towards Jean Grey before walking out of the room without another word. Jean Grey blinks at the southpaw pitch to her and almost fumbles the snow globe, but at the last second, manages to secure it in her grasp. She gasps as it lands in her hands, and for a moment, everything is forgotten. The departure of Daggett and Waller, Cain's angry outburst, Erik's moment of whatever that was. And then she looks up at Emma's departure and quickly gets to her feet. Still, something draws her back, and it's the presence of Erik... something else that needs to be addressed, and addressed now. Or at least addressed soon, but not with witnesses. Moira just shakes her head at Cain's fury, getting to her feet and taking up the leather case she was given with the legal documents and such. She also takes a copy of the will, just in case, plopping a second one on top of Jean's portion of the table as a pointed encouragement to make sure she has documentation. "Good day tae ye," she says to the others remaining, since she's not about to get into a verbal sparring match with a guy who looks like he could take down most of those pansies prancing around and pretending to be wrestlers on American telly. With a brisk walk, she exits the room as well. Erik simply sits there and looks at Cain as one might look at a child having a tantrum. Finally he stands up and addresses the larger man without fear. "You were about as much a brother to Charles as a Hatfield and a McCoy although those two families still probably produced better behaved men than you. Take what was given to you and leave." He glances over at Emma and Moira as they leave. They are given a nod of his head in farewell. He knew Moira, but the other is an unknown to him. He looks back at Jean, still sitting there, and returns to his own seat. "That is just bull cookies and Government covering its own hind parts!" Cain yells at the door that Waller left from. He snorts again like a bull as he looks at everyone else starting to leave. He walks over and grabs a copy of the will. He basically crumbles it in his large hand as if daring anyone to say anything more. "I do know a lawyer and this ain't over. I'm going to get what's mine. I promise you that." He turns and throws the chair that Daggett had been sitting in across the room and then storms out. Jean Grey ignores the fact that Cain just threw a chair across the room. She's weathered worse storms. Instead, she mechanically takes the copy of the will that Moira left for her and puts it into the leather case she was given by Daggett. Once she can't fuss over that and settling the snow globe neatly on top of it on the table, and finally has to address the man sitting nearby, she says, "I really wasn't expecting anything like this." She still can't look at her former teacher. "And I can't honestly fathom what Charles was thinking when he bequeathed me... money. I think I understand why he gave you the estate and grounds, though," she adds after a brief pause. Erik raises an eyebrow as he looks across the table at Jean. "Miss Grey, you were always his favorite student. It should come as little shock that he trusted you as much as he did." He does begin to physically relax a little bit now as the strangers have left the room. His shoulders slump just a little bit and he begins to look a bit more like an elderly man rather than cast in iron. He leans forward and releases his hands from the clench they were in. "What were you expecting if not a great deal of wealth? I do not believe you are stupid or naive, Miss Grey. Do not insult my intelligence by trying to be either." Jean Grey shakes her head. "No, I'm afraid I don't understand. What on God's green Earth do I do with a pile of money? I have no use for it, really. I mean, he could have given more to Dr. MacTaggart or most of it to charity or something, even to his crazy brother there, but me? Really? I thought he knew me better than that, that's all." And since it is Erik who's there, not a close friend that she can be vulnerable around, she doesn't shed the tears that are welling up in her eyes. "And now I lose my home for the second time in as many years... what's left of it, that is." She sighs softly and admits, "I was kind of hoping to be able to restore it somehow. I dunno how, just... somehow. In his honor or something stupid like that that people like you don't understand." And for someone who knows her as well as he did before he left, he can certainly tell that she's far more exhausted and wrung-out than can be attributed to a simple will-reading. "You can use the money to find your lost classmates for one. If they live, you can use this to try and find them through private enterprises and the like." Erik does not seem moved by her sighs and soft voice. There is little pity in his eyes. "You could start a school of your own if you wished. Your home is where your loved ones are, Miss Grey. Your family." He stands up and places his hands on the table as he leans forward. "What I have now, is a hole in the ground and scattered bricks thanks to people like Ms. Waller despite what she says. Yes, there is more to it than that as you and I know, but I do not have loved ones. I do not have a family. With this, I have information. I do have some power, but spare me the crying. I shed my tears years ago. Charles was a good friend, and I regret that he is gone. Do not for a minute believe that I do not understand honor. I will make sure that the monument that arises from these ashes will stand for 'Never again'." "I'm not sure I trust her either," Jean answers with a shrug, finding some well of strength within her somewhere. "But she believed what she was saying. But if they knew enough to seek us out and ask for us, then send her to observe and comment, then it's possible they could have manipulated her or altered her mind, I don't know. It would have taken a long time and a much deeper scan to find out for sure, and doing that would have breached any ethics rules Charles ever taught me." She looks at the snow globe for a few moments. "A monument," she finally says. "Yeah, do that, because I greatly fear what would happen if you actually listened to what Charles suggested and used the estate for a school." She rises to her feet and picks up the leather case and the snow globe, curiously handling it only by its base. "It will be a school, Miss Grey. If it is not, the grounds will revert to you unless I misheard the will." Erik leans over and picks up a copy of the will and slides it into his own leather folder. He taps the folder once before looking at Jean. "It will be a school to train and teach. Perhaps a bit of Charles will be there, but we will put more iron into their backbones. I have invited you to join me before, Miss Grey. The offer still stands. Together, we can make sure nothing like this will happen again, and we will learn the truth about Miss Waller and her ilk." "It would only revert to me if you were dead, and since you are not dead, it's now up to you what happens to it when you pass," Jean replies blandly. "But a school. Are you sure you want to have me around? I've always had a bad habit of questioning you and your methods, as you know. So far, I've done it privately, as one should. I'm not sure what would happen if we had opposing views and there was no way to discuss it rationally and privately, as we are speaking now. I do not, and never have, believed in your more extreme beliefs. This hasn't changed. Our ideas of what is considered honorable are vastly different. You hate my significant other simply because he's human. I'm honestly not sure what use I would be to you, other than to be an irritant until you get tired of me yipping on about how you're not doing things the way Charles would and swat me away like the insignificant bug that I am to you." Her voice doesn't rise, she speaks in something of a weary monotone, pinching the bridge of her nose. "So far, I haven't managed to piss you off, but I can see that someday, perhaps soon, I will. And then we're gonna throw down. And then you'll do to me what that crazy psycho Zod nearly did, and hurray, maybe I should just write my own will and make sure the money I just inherited goes to charity or my parents or something. Gah, you make me crazy, Erik, you really really do, because you are so goddamned inflexible about what you want and what you'll do and you won't listen to a damned thing anyone else has to say. And your being insufferably right (in your own opinion) is gonna get us all killed. So there." Erik listens to the speech quietly, not trying to interrupt or dispute her points. As she finishes he nods once. "Perhaps we are too different much as Charles and I were too different. Charles and I did, however, work together for a time and there was no swatting or crushing each other under foot when we realized that we could never see eye to eye." He picks up the leather folder and carries it under one arm as he comes around the table to stand at the head of the table where Daggett and his chair had once been. He looks at Jean. "The difference between you and I is not merely a level of extremes and morals. I know what my goal is. I fear you do not. I have my convictions. You have some human who caters to you for now. While I live, people like Ms. Waller will never threaten mutantkind without some kind of repercussion. If running a school is the best way to do that, so be it." He comes around the corner of the table and stands in front of Jean. As he is this close, she can see the toll the years have taken on him despite his bravado. "Unless you openly attack me or try to stop me from defending mutants, you will never have anything to fear from me and even then. You always were the most like Charles of the students I knew. I would not take that away, but I will also not be opening my arms to embrace those that would put a knife in my back." He speaks quietly as he looks at Jean for a moment longer and then nods. "Perhaps this is for the best. Perhaps not. Your invitation still stands and will continue to." Jean Grey looks up at Erik silently as he speaks. "Repercussion... or justice. A culture of fear, or a culture of acceptance and understanding. I don't believe that those responsible for turning the school into a crater were brought to justice. That sort of thing involves courts and juries and lawyers and due process. But I don't believe in revenge for revenge's sake. If I did, those guys would have been dealt with such a long time ago, and now my codename would probably be 'Dark Phoenix' or something stupid like that." She sets her case and the snow globe down on the table again. "I have no knives in my hand. I want no blood on my hands either." She holds her hands out in a gesture of peace, a proto-hug, if you will. "It is not you that I worry about, Miss Grey. Charles would have us believe that given time everyone would recognize the error of their ways and come to love each other despite our differences." Erik shakes his head. "I see some of that in you as well. I'm sorry but I have seen humanity at their lowest. Take away all their securities. Reduce them to their basest forms and they will turn on each other. Seeing what we can do, any of us and not just you or I, will take away those securities. They will not feel their homes are safe. They will not feel their children are safe. No matter how many times you tell them or show them, they will be scared and they will try to destroy us. We must be in a position of power and let them know that they would lose that battle. Then we will have peace, Miss Grey." "No, my old teacher," Jean says with resignation deep on her voice, dropping her hands and looking away. "All we will have is death. You have seen the lowest humanity has to offer, and I can show you the highest, I can show you what Charles saw in everyone, but I can't make you look. I could make you believe... but I'm not going to. Hope is the one thing that makes us different, really. I think we both want the same thing, overall. I just don't think you're ever going to even listen to why it might be more beneficial to all of us to consider a different way. And I cannot and will not fight at your side, if violence is your first answer to the mutant question. We're not friends. And you said you have no loved ones, no family. So you have no one to care about and you don't care if no one cares about you, the guy without a bucket on his head. What are you going to do to mutants who don't want any part of your new world order? What about those who will fight you? Don't you see? At some point, I am going to have to fight you, and I don't want to, because I still give some kind of damn about you because Charles did, and I know you're gonna hand me my rear end on a platter. And you don't care how much that is tearing me up inside, because it means I'm weak and have feelings and no one's allowed to have them, right?" "We are in the same circular argument that Charles and I used to have," Erik says with a shake of his head. "He believed people could be good. I believe a singular person can be good, but humanity as a whole is worth very little. When the first mutant is stamped on the head and shipped off to some miserable camp, you will see more and more mutants come to my cause. You will see, as I have, that humanity is a cowardly, lazy, and brutal thing." He picks up the folder and begins to head towards the door. "Good evening, Miss Grey. I wish you well in your endeavors. If I can help you, I shall." "Fine. Let's prove your point. I'm coming with you, damn your eyes." Once more picking up her case and the discarded snowglobe, the latter once more curiously by the wrought iron base, Jean Grey follows the elder gentleman toward the door. << Tony's gonna kill me... >> she mutters in her own mind. Category:Logs